


this whiskey got me feeling pretty

by lavab0y



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Beaches, But everyone is consenting, Canon Compliant, Hawaii, M/M, Making Out, Vacation, he doesn't rly have a role in this one but i love him, mostly steven lusting after andrew, sorry i didn't mention adam, the setting doesn't really make sense but dont think abt it, tipsy making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 14:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavab0y/pseuds/lavab0y
Summary: steven gets a little too loose-lipped when he drinks but it works out in the end





	this whiskey got me feeling pretty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leiasreys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiasreys/gifts).



> this is set in an episode of worth it that does not exist, but could exist, might exist, depending on what they end up filming in hawaii!!! this is for pheebs, my first friend in this fandom, who always yells abt the gay with me and is just great

The sun is hot on his back, the sky is clear, and the air isn’t ridiculously humid like in LA. Steven is so damn glad he decided to take Eugene’s advice and go to Hawaii for Worth It season 4’s finale. What could be better than this amazing view? Andrew’s arms look so deliciously strong in the late afternoon light. Oh, and the ridiculously blue water and impossibly white sand are nice too.

Steven startles at his own train of consciousness. Those are thoughts that he usually reserves for indulging in late at night, alone in his apartment, where he can take his time and fall apart with visions of Andrew in his mind. Where he can pretend for a moment that it’s okay to be in love with your best friend and that it’s not gonna fuck everything up.

Steven supposes that he should have realized earlier what he knows now. He should have realized when he started liking sharing food with Andrew instead of getting his own. No matter how good it tasted, nothing was more satisfying than sitting with their elbows touching and watching Andrew enjoy his food. He should have realized when the bloom of something like hope sprung up in his chest when Andrew sat with him in their hotel room in New York City and told him he and Thespi broke up, but he ignored it and attributed it to relief - he could see how much the relationship had been stressing him out. And he certainly should have realized when he and Ying broke off a 5-year relationship and the strongest emotion he had about the situation was an intense feeling of freedom. 

But he didn’t actually realize until they were in Australia, filming the seafood episode, and Andrew pushed him towards the edge of the short (but daunting) cliff, and then pulled him back, laughing. One hand was curled into the material of Steven’s coat and the other was gripping him securely around the waist and Steven thought,  _ I’ve never felt more at home than right now. _ And then he knew.

  
  
  


That incident aside, Steven was okay at hiding his feelings about Andrew. So long as he didn’t get too drunk, too sleepy, or too frustrated and just let his mask slip. The problem, he was realizing, is that Hawaii is a drink-heavy vacation spot. They didn’t have to drive anywhere, drinks were served almost everywhere they went, and the sun made everything feel five times stronger than usual. He  _ had  _ had a couple drinks earlier and was currently sipping a hard cider. Maybe that’s why he felt like jumping Andrew’s bones right here on this beach.

Maybe it’s just because he wants to jump Andrew’s bones in general.

_ Maybe I should stop drinking, _ Steven thinks. And almost immediately, Andrew jogs up to him. He’s shirtless and wet from the surf, and his hair is hanging in his eyes and Steven just wants to-

     “Hey, Steve. Want another drink? Or are you good?” Andrew asks a smile stretching over his face. He nods towards the glass in Steven’s hand. When did he drain this one? He could have sworn it was just half full. He opens his mouth to say  _ ‘No, thanks, I’m good’ _ but instead he says,

     “Sex on the beach. I want sex on the beach.” Andrew tilts his head in confusion. Every voice of reason in Steven’s head is screaming at high volume.  _ Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck why did I say that- _

     Andrew wrinkles his nose. “You like drinks like  _ that _ ?”

     “Hey, it’s tasty!” Steven weakly retorts. 

     “Alright, sure, I’ll bring you one,” he grins and ruffles Steven’s hair before walking past him towards the beachside bar.  _ That was so close, God.  _ Steven sinks heavily into the lounge chair and breathes in deeply to slow his breathing. The alcohol must really be getting to him if his lips are that loose. He can’t afford to let another of those slip or Andrew might figure him out. He closes his eyes and places a hand on his chest to try and calm his racing heart, but it’s useless because in the next moment he feels a hand in his hair that sends his heart into overdrive again.

     “You okay?” Andrew’s brow is wrinkled in concern and he presses the back of his hand to his forehead. “You look super red right now.”

     “Well, I have been drinking, so…” Steven trails off. Andrew’s abs look perfect to dip his tongue into before moving on to the main show and the drops of water running down his pecs are so damn distracting. Andrew laughed and Steven forced himself to focus on the conversation. On anything above Andrew’s collarbones.

     “I forgot how much of a lightweight you are. Go easy on this one, okay?” Andrew says, and hands the Sex on the Beach to Steven. He looks almost angelic with the setting sun shining behind him. Like he's radiating light. Steven wants to suck his dick. He doesn’t want another drink. And although the one sober and sane part of his brain is begging him to stop, he says as much.

     “Not this kind of sex on the beach,” he says, offering the glass back to Andrew. The confused tilt makes a reappearance. Steven sighs through his nose, sets the glass on a nearby table, gets up on drunken legs, and flops straight onto the sand. “ _ This _ kind of sex on the beach,” he says, and hooks his foot around Andrew’s ankle, making the other man stumble and fall on top of him. Andrew’s eyes are wide and gorgeous and Steven thinks he could count every single pretty little eyelash if he tried.

     “Oh,” Andrew breathes. He licks his lips. They’re red and Steven can feel the ocean water from Andrew’s chest drip onto him and get him wet, too.

     “Oh,” Steven says. He tilts his head upwards slowly, plenty of time for Andrew to pull away and be disgusted at him. Andrew doesn’t. In fact, he meets Steven halfway.

He tastes like peach schnapps and cranberry juice, and Steven parts his mouth in invitation for more. His tongue slides against Andrew’s and there’s a feeling like waves rushing up the shore that spreads from his lips to every inch of his body. He tilts his head and licks deeper, searching for a taste of purely Andrew under the vodka and orange. Andrew groans into his mouth and Steven feels the heat of the flush that comes to his cheeks before he sees it. He pulls away and their lips make a smacking noise that makes him harder than he already is, somehow. They don’t say anything for a while. 

At some point, the sun set. At some point, Andrew dug his fingers into Steven’s hair and Steven ran his hands down Andrew’s sides and rested them just above his ass. At some point, Andrew started sporting a semi, too. At some point, the voice of reason in Steven’s head went quiet under the heavy blanket-feeling of safety he feels when he looks into Andrew’s eyes and sees his utter need, in more ways than one, for the other. He can’t help but smile. He feels giddy like a teenager.

     “So...I take it you enjoyed Sex on the Beach?” Steven quipped, eyes curling into crescents at the exasperated expression on Andrew’s face. Andrew rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling and Steven knows it means,  _ I love you, too. _


End file.
